


Happier

by impulsewriter (trilogycal)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Developing Relationship, During Canon, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Keith backstory, Like. Immense Pining, M/M, Mutual Pining, References to Later Seasons, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04, and now he has abandonment issues!, but it only made lance feel more worthless!, but splits off into, fml!!!!!!!!, i have a love/hate relationship w canon sometimes and i wrote this when i was feeling Hate, keith left the team bc he wanted lance to feel important!, mentions of keith's mom & shiro's boyfriend, the bedroom scene, this was an impulse post so read it while you can before i delete it lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 18:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16497809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilogycal/pseuds/impulsewriter
Summary: the reason(s) why Keith left for the Blade of Marmora, and the results of it.





	Happier

**Author's Note:**

> "lately i've been, i've been thinking  
> i want you to be happier  
> i want you to be happier" 
> 
> "then only for a minute  
> i want to change my mind cuz  
> this just don't feel right to me
> 
> i want to raise your spirits  
> i want to see your smile  
> but know that means  
> i'll have to leave"
> 
> "so i'll go" 
> 
> \- "Happier" by marshmello ft. bastille

The doors slide apart, and Lance stands on the other side. He has resolute lines beneath his eyes, and his choppy brown hair is tousled, sticking up at tantrum angles from where he's run his hands through it too many times. He's frowning, deeply, and so the tension doesn't quite drain from Keith's shoulders. 

"Hey man," he greets as he walks in, stopping just in front of Keith. "I just wanted to talk to you because..." His eyes scan the ceiling, like there's an answer there. "..well, because I've been worrying about something." 

The strings in Keith's chest twang with a sudden, desperate impulse to make Lance's face change, into something else besides that frown. He puts on a little smirk and crosses his arms, and watches Lance's eyes follow his motions, drawn to bare skin. "Must really be bothering you if you're coming to me," Keith says, a little goadingly. 

The bait isn't taken, for once. "Well, I mean, you're the leader now, right?" Lance looks uncomfortable even mentioning it. His frown deepens when Keith drops the smirk and lowers his eyes with it, squeezing his biceps and trying to force the feeling of being exposed down. 

"I guess," he says quietly, examining the scuffed toes of Lance's well-loved sneakers instead of meeting his eyes. 

Lance decides to soldier on. "I've been doing some math," he states. His eyes are firmly locked on Keith's face, somehow, because Lance is not afraid of interpersonal conversation and emotions, unlike the fearless leader he now answers to. Keith's eyes follow his hands as he holds up six fingers, oddly drawn to how long and slender Lance's fingers are, to the faint white scar on the back of his right knuckles, to his immaculate fingernails. "With Shiro back, that makes six paladins, but there are only five lions." He curls his little finger inward, eyes jumping back up to Keith's. "And if I'm right, that's one paladin too many." He lowers all fingers except the pinky, and holds it up for Keith to plainly see; this nail, unlike the rest, is bitten down and ragged. 

Keith closes his eyes and briefly wonders where in the world he's going with the finger counting. "Solid math." 

Like he read Keith's mind and saw the confusion there, Lance averts his gaze to the floor. "Look, when Shiro takes over the Black Lion, you're going to want your Red Lion back." He folds his arms, right hand hooked onto his elbow. "And if I get a lion, I'd have to take Blue from Allura. But she's progressed a lot faster than any of us did. She might even be able to unlock powers we don't know of." 

"That's true..." Keith reluctantly agrees, because he's detected the note in Lance's voice and officially doesn't think he likes where this is going. 

Lance looks aside, guilty and downtrodden like he knows Keith knows where he's going. His eyes are slivers of blue below fanned eyelashes, eyeing the door like he wants to escape. "So, maybe the best thing I can do for the team is step aside," he murmurs. 

Whatever that was throws Keith completely off. "What are you talking about?" he asks, and for once in his life, he hides his real emotion well, managing to sound mildly confused instead of totally, completely lost. 

And when Lance hears it, maybe that's a bad thing, because his face falls even further. "This isn't a participation game," he says, eyes rising back up to Keith's. Lance stares hard at him, blue eyes dark with something, and Keith barely remembers to pay attention. "This is war. And you want your best soldiers on the front lines." 

It strikes Keith suddenly that Lance, a man of wild gesticulation, has been very still aside from head movements. Keith extends a hand and does the talking for him. "Stop worrying about who flies what and just focus on your missions," he says, because he can see the red-vs-blue, blue-vs-pink blurs in Lance's gaze, his eyes windows to the thoughts. "Things will work themselves out." 

Lance draws back, shoulder stiffening and mouth thinning into a line. The curtains close in his eyes. All like Keith had punched him. "O.K.," he says, shortening the word into two mere letters, two syllables threatening to crumble under the weight of things he's going to keep unsaid. He's already turning and walking toward the door before Keith can blink. "Thanks." 

For a moment, Keith stares at the spot where he stood, feeling vaguely like they were never in the same boat at all; like he was sitting in a canoe in the sea while Lance sunk to the bottom of an entirely different ocean on the other side of the world. The brave, always thoughtful team leader struggles, ticks stretched out as Lance walks to the door and makes it halfway out, before Keith opens his mouth and reacts on the desperate urge to try and fix whatever made Lance look at him like that. 

"And Lance..."

Lance pauses, one foot in the hallway. He automatically turns halfway before he freezes, then continues on like he had to think twice about turning around. His eyebrows are sloped, his mouth twitched downward as he glances back at Keith. 

Keith tries. "Leave the math to Pidge." 

The wrinkle between his brows smooths out, and his eyes widen a fraction. Keith feels his own smile widen victoriously when Lance smiles back, lopsided and not entirely present but there nonetheless. Keith doesn't feel like he's jetsam on the sea on the wreckage of that conversation, when Lance turns without another word and disappears into the hallway like he intended to, but he does feel floatsam on... something. 

He just doesn't know what yet. 

 

/ 

"Guys, I..." Keith freezes, eyes going wide. The entire team is gathered, each one of them wearing their own special frown that speaks volumes; Pidge's especially must be filled with words you can't say on T.V. unless you slip it in there somehow. Keith swallows, eyes darting over to the side, trying to escape their disapproving stares. He feels naked in the form-fitting Marmora suit, and not for the first time, he longs for the familiar feel of his jacket and jeans. "I heard what happened. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help." 

"You keep saying you're sorry, but your actions say otherwise," Allura snaps, and her anger makes Keith shrink a little. "Do you realize that your absence put the team in jeopardy?" 

Lance takes a step forward, flanking the princess. His glare is especially harsh, compared to the gentle smile Keith has probably grown too comfortable seeing from him. His eyes are hard and unforbidding, like steel. "And not just the team, but the refugees as well?" 

"Matter of fact, the entire quadrant was in danger," Pidge adds coldly. 

Keith looks away again, searching for words and finding little. "This is not the way I wanted this to happen," he finally says, taking a few steps forward,"but if there's a bright side to any of this, it's that my absence allowed Shiro to reestablish his bond with the Black Lion. He can finally be the leader I was unable to be." Keith focuses on Allura's face, because the way Shiro's scowl softens into a frown and his eyebrows draw together makes him want to run. "I'm not meant to pilot the Black Lion." 

"Is that why you've been pulling away from us?" Allura asks, hushed. 

"Yeah. I suppose that's part of it." And then, he glances up at Lance. 

Lance watches him with narrowed eyes, squinted from the furrow of his eyebrows. His frown is pitifully lopsided, and Keith can see just how sad and blue his eyes are from where he's standing. 

"Part of it? What's the other part?" Hunk asks, glancing at Lance from the corner of his eye.

Keith stares at the floor, a prickle of something hot on the back of his neck when Hunk catches him. He pauses, trying to smother the urge to turn and flee from Hunk's clever brown gaze, and figures out how to explain everything. 

"The Blades have been making headway tracking the source of this new quintessence," Keith says, keeping his eyes locked onto Hunk's round, understanding face. He refuses to look back at Lance, even when he steps up to Hunk's side and into his space, so tantalizingly close to just sneak a peek at. But Keith can't afford to take looks now; he's explaining his plans, the same schemes he's crafted since Lance held up his pinky finger and looked at him like he was lost. As lost as he looks now, while he listens to Keith's explanation and doesn't look up at him; just stares at the floor, frowning. 

Shiro puts a hand on his shoulder, and Keith gasps, a little startled. He realizes he's been staring into the distance, the sad slope of Lance's mouth burned into his brain. "Keith... if this is what you feel is right, then we won't try to stop you. But just know that we're here for you whenever you need us." A corner of his mouth lifts and his eyes dart off to the left; because of course, he saw where Keith's eyes were earlier, he's Shiro. 

Keith manages a watery smile. "I know you are. And I can't tell you how much that means to me." Shiro raises his hand and Keith takes it, clasping their palms together. He lets Shiro draw him in and closes his eyes, tilting his head and avoiding the hard ridge of Shiro's armor. 

Over his shoulder, Hunk's eyes are leaking like broken faucets. "I can't be left out of this!" he cries, and rushes toward them, arms spread wide. The team rushes after him, Coran hot on his heels. Allura is the last to join the hug, wrapping her arm around Pidge as the younger girl latches on to Keith's side and squeezes him. 

"We're really gonna miss you," Pidge sniffles. 

He feels Lance's chest brush his back, and a hand brushes his hip where no one is clinging. "Yeah, who am I gonna make fun of..?" 

Allura tilts her head and leans it against Keith's own. "I know you'll make us proud." 

They eventually let him go, their arms reluctantly withdrawing from wrapped around him. Keith walks toward the doors, his step resolute, until his resolve crumbles and he pauses. He turns and looks over his shoulder, and he catches Lance's sloping smile first. The other boy raises his hand and gives a little wave, fingers curled halfheartedly, and he looks vaguely pained. Keith's heart snags on the brambles of something he's recently come to terms with, and he gives Lance a small nod before he faces forward again, and wills his legs to stride long and proud down the hallway, away from his team - his family. 

+

The Blade base is cold, dark, and very very lonely. 

Keith has all of the spare blankets in his room, uses them to ward off the chill seeping into his bones with every passing day, and there's no noise. Not even the hum of machinery or footsteps of other Blades can be heard, no matter how hard he strains his ears. It's very different from the castle, where the vacuum is outside the walls, not within. There's sound in the castle, signs of life: Shiro's footsteps heavy on purpose as he makes the rounds for the benefit of his own paranoia, Hunk and Pidge bickering about things that are over Keith's head, Allura humming a song that's both familiar and unfamiliar, Coran's voice over the intercoms, Lance's laughter through the walls and the sounds of him dancing to the Latin music he had Pidge pirate for him.... Here at the base, Keith is whisked back to his desert shack, isolated and left to dry, not even the cactus and lizards to keep him company now. 

And the missions should keep his mind off of it. They're back to back, nonstop fighting, 24/7 stealth and infiltration and shadow walking, and Keith's bruises don't even have time to heal before he gains new ones. They're black and yellow and green and even blue and red against his skin, which is as white as paper; something that assures that he might not belong here, no matter who or where he got his Marmoran blade from. He's too short and pale, and reckless, and gets cold too easily; an outsider. 

When Keith dreams, which is every now and then, he remembers why he's here - so, maybe the best thing I can do for the team is step aside - Lance's pinky finger and one paladin too many - an unfamiliar voice and I left to protect the person I most love - and his resolve grows strong once again. 

But a few months after he leaves Voltron - he can't tell how many phoebs have passed anymore, it's all one blur of dull aching, both of his body and his heart - Kolivan lets him stand in while he conference calls the team. 

Seeing their faces in real time wrings his heart dry. Shiro and Allura are front and center, and while he enjoys taking in the former's nose scar and the gray hairs hidden in his eyebrows and the latter's flyaway hairs and her diplomatic smile, Keith can't really make out the others from a distance; he sees Coran's bright mustache, Pidge's messy hair, Hunk's broad figure, Lance's brown skin, but he wants to, needs to, see the light of their eyes, their smiles, their laugh lines. 

Shiro asks to private call him with, and Keith nearly collapses with relief when Kolivan agrees, albeit reluctantly. 

Keith one-on-ones with each one of them. Shiro must be practicing a new eyeliner wing style, because the shape of his eyes looks just different enough for Keith to feel a passing twinge of discomfort; Pidge's freckles stand out across her cheeks when she leans in close; Hunk's chin dimples when he laughs at one of 'Galra Keith''s jokes; Allura is next, and she has tired lines beneath her eyes, but her eyes crinkle nonetheless. 

Lance is the ultimate call - the best for last, he jokes - but the teasing tone fades into something different when Keith mentions Shiro. He looks off to the side, pensive and grimacing, but he doesn't elaborate, and Keith doesn't have enough time to pry the reason why out of him. Lance hangs up with a bittersweet smile, asks Keith to call back sometime soon, and tells him to watch out for something called the Voltron Show. 

He makes Keith promise to be careful and stay alive, eyes hard and soft at the same time, and Keith feels guilty because he tries to avoid making promises he can't keep. 

But for Lance, for his eyes and his smile and his laughter, Keith would promise anything in the universe. 

\+ 

The Voltron Shows become his new obsession. 

Keith never thought that he'd be a Voltron fanboy, but he realizes that, when he's not apart of it, the giant mechanized war machine is extremely cool, and so are the mysterious aliens that pilot it. 

The first show broadcasted on Bi-Bo-Bih-World (Keith forgot the actual name of it) is quite the production, with Bi-Bo-Bih's dressed up as an extremely skinny Zarkon and Haggar, Coran's dramatic narration and the Bi-Bo-Bih translation of it, Hunk and Pidge sliding across the floor; the cardboard Lion helmets and the pyramid Team Voltron forms to - to shoot confetti at Bi-Zarkon and Bo-Haggar, sending them flying away and across the stage - it has Keith rolling in his bed, and Kolivan sending him a message to quiet down or else you'll alert the entire system of our location. 

Keith apologizes, but he isn't truly sorry, and it shows with how hard he laughs at the next show, when fart noises play whenever he bends over. It's low-brow humor, sure, and he feels kinda bad for laughing at poor innocent doesn't-deserve-this Hunk of all people, but Keith hasn't smiled in phoebs; he allows himself to cry with hysteria, and muffles it with the pillow when Kolivan comes in in person to warn him the second time. 

The caricatures of the Paladins are so quiznaking funny, it never fails to brighten Keith's darkest days. 

Keith is Keith's #1 Fan, and through his laughter, he asks Allura for an autograph next time they chat. She hangs up on him without a second thought, and he's too busy dying to reconnect. 

But an extended mission makes him miss the next few shows, and when he finally returns to the base with sore feet and skin tingling from the healing salve and an aching heart, Keith settles down for the next broadcast. 

Each of the paladins received one solo, to establish their characters and their roles in Team Voltron; it sucks that Keith missed Hunk's and Pidge's and even his own for crying out loud, but fortunately, he manages to catch Lance's just before it starts. 

Unfortunately, he manages to catch Lance's. 

Sensual, swelling music that Keith recognizes as one of the Latino soundtracks Lance used to blast while he showered or brushed his teeth or folded his four articles of laundry to. A spotlight cuts on, and Keith recognizes the rusted chest of the Red Lion, a panel opened up just beneath her neck, where the fluff on an Earth lion's chest might be; a rope descends from the panel, and more spotlights flank the one as they shine toward the figure lowering down, and oh quiznak, that's Lance. 

Lance is upside down, and he's doing a perfect 180° angle with his legs that makes Keith's breath catch upon sight. The camera pans closer in on him, and the distance makes it so that you can't notice the trembling of his arms as he keeps himself suspended or the concentrated clench of his teeth through the tint of his visor. Keith swallows hard, the sound loud in his quiet quarters, at the curve of his back, the tilt of his head that shows off the vulnerable line of his neck in the skintight undersuit, the heave of his chest even below the chestplate, the band of black wrapped between the armor of his legs - Lance spins at the turn of the music and flips. He kicks one leg, wrapping a length of the wire around his lower foot, and arches his back, sticking one long, long leg out into the air, head tossed back like he's - 

Keith throws the holopad across the room, the image burned into his mind. It hits the floor and skids away, landing facedown beneath his tiny desk. "You're great, Loverboy Lance!" a deep voice calls from the holopad, muffled by the floor. Keith buries his burning face in his hands, feeling the blush all the way through his gloves, and groans loudly when Lance's deep chuckle reaches his ears. "Thanks, Red!" Lance says, surely wearing a dashing smile, and Keith's hands find themselves tangled in his hair, gripping handfuls until it hurts. 

The door to his quarters slides open with a hiss, and Kolivan himself enters, sidling his broad frame through the doorway. "Keith," he says, a hint of something - bemusement? - coloring his tone. "Are you ready to depart?" 

"Depart..?" Keith shakily repeats, lowering his hands and staring at them. The briefing from earlier hits him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, his embarrassed blush stoked by the lone eyebrow Kolivan raises. "R-right. Yeah, I'm ready. Let me just -" He gets up and walks over to fetch the holopad, pauses the transmission right when Lance has just removed his helmet, holding it against his hip, back arched and head thrown back as he combs through his hair. The angles of his sharp chin and the peak of his nose contrast the curve of his smile and his eyelashes, and Keith hesitates for just a second too long. 

Kolivan clears his throat, and Keith remembers that holopads can be seen through two ways. He closes his eyes and holds down the power button, and throws it back onto the bed with a little bit of embarrassed aggression. "Okay," he declares. "Let's go." 

\+ 

"I think something is wrong with Shiro." 

He's been talking to Lance a lot lately. 

They probably chat more now, with Keith practically grounded to his room for being reckless on his last mission and Lance on the other side of the galaxy, than they did when they could actually stand next to each other. There's an ease to their long-distance conversations that rarely happened when they shared the proximity; Keith feels relaxed, and obviously so does Lance, and they just discuss whatever they can - Pidge finding her brother and dad, Hunk revolutionizing the kitchen and cooking actual food in it, Shiro and Allura questioning their new prisoner of war: Lotor, and Keith tries to keep the details of his missions vague, which Lance notices but doesn't seem to mind - until Lance answers one quintant, looking uneasy and nervous. 

"What do you mean?" Keith asks, taking in the thoughtful slope of Lance's brows, the shift of his eyes around the room, the fidgeting of his hands running through his hair and his position changing. Is the color beneath his eyes just a little lighter or could it be the lighting? 

Lance rubs his fingertips together - he's in casual attire, and as such those fingers Keith has had dreams about are bare and ungloved - and puffs out some air. "I don't know how to explain it," he admits. "I just.. know something is different about him." 

"What do you mean, different?" Keith questions, voice low. 

Lance seems to hear the concern in his voice and waves his hands. "Nothing worth losing sleep over, Keith! Believe me, I know you need to rest whenever you can. Kolivan tells us that you're working yourself to death, volunteering on every single mission, like do you think you have something to prove, Keith? Because I think you've already done it, my man, you're gonna kill yourself at this rate -" 

"Lance," Keith interrupts, monotone, and Lance pauses to flush. "What do you mean, different?" 

Lance's theatrical frown dips into something genuine, the corners of his mouth tugged further down that Keith has ever seen, and he sighs, a weary noise that betrays that he's the one losing sleep over it. "He doesn't act like Shiro anymore," he confesses, spitting it out slow and reluctantly. His eyes flicker to Keith, hesitant and blue, and Keith gestures to continue. Lance licks his lips absentmindedly, trying to find the words to phrase his worries, and Keith's eyes are drawn to the motion. "He's... aggressive. Always serious, never unwinds. Just does perimeter checks and trains whenever we're not on a mission, and when we are doing something with the lions? He pushes us hard. The other day, Allura fell behind again, she was trying to get Galra fighters off our tails, and he just.. kept going. He didn't even stop for her, and it took all of us screaming at him to come back for him to even stop and think about it for a split second." Lance doesn't meet his eyes on the camera feed. "I feel like... he doesn't care about what I have to say." 

"Lance..." Keith recalls that feeling back in his room; he's not jetsam in the sea, but flotsam on something. "Of course he cares about what you have to say. You're a part of the team, Lance, a very important one. You're the right hand, for the sake of quiznak!" 

Lance looks baffled at the praise. "Keith..." he says, like it's the only word he knows how to say. It strikes Keith suddenly like a spark, how lovely the dark blush on his face is, and Keith is ignited with a panicked flame. "But Shiro... he -"

"Y-you've always been important, Lance," he continues, squeezing his eyes closed at the stutter. "Escaping Galra captivity has messed Shiro up. Like, really badly. And I'm sure the second time didn't do him any favors. He gets... stuck in his own head sometimes, gets caught up in the flashbacks." Keith rubs his fingertips together, a habit resulted from deep thought, and thins his lips. "He just needs you guys to anchor him, to pull him out." 

When he opens his eyes again, Lance's eyes are shiny. "I understand that, Keith, but -"

"Shiro has always valued each one of you guys," Keith continues. "He just forgets to show it, sometimes. Lance, please -" He grimaces. "- ugh, I wish you could.. hear, and feel, what I'm trying to say here! You're so important, Lance, don't forget that!" His voice has risen to a flustered shout, and he releases the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in, unclenching his tight fists and willing the tension to leave him. 

Lance is quiet when he settles down, blinking hard as he stares at the camera feed. "I wish you were here, Keith," he whispers, the words coming easily like it hadn't taken a second thought. "It's different without you here. We miss you. I..." He swallows hard. "I miss you." 

Keith opens his mouth to reply, but the door slides open, and Kolivan pokes his head into the room. "Keith," he says, tone hushed compared to the usual boom in his voice. "Would you be willing to fill in for Ka'var on the Qokaz-22 quadrant mission? His leg has not healed yet, and we have no one else to occupy his spot." 

Keith licks his lips and glances back down at the screen. When their eyes meet, Lance quickly looks away and blushes, rubbing the heated back of his neck. "Yeah, I can fill in," he tells Kolivan. "When do we leave?" 

"In one varga." Kolivan's golden eyes flicker down to the holopad in Keith's lap. "I apologize for interrupting, but it was a matter of urgency." 

"Hey, no worries! We were just about to wrap it up anyways!" Lance's voice comes light and easygoing from the holopad, a whiplash change from the low, gravelly pitch he'd previously used. To Keith, it sounds horribly forced, but Kolivan nods, nothing out of the ordinary. "Good luck on your mission, Mr. Blade, sir!" 

"Thank you, Blue Paladin." Kolivan's eyes linger on Keith for just a second longer, then he steps out of the room. Keith already knows where to report to, how long he has, what the mission is about; there's little more to say. "I will see you shortly, Keith." 

"Yes, Kolivan." Keith waits until the doors shut once again before breathing. His eyes return to Lance, who is wearing a saddened smile. He doesn't say anything, and Lance holds the silence for a few moments. They stare at each other, something that should've been awkward and not comfortable, but it's surprisingly easy to watch the corners of Lance's eyes crinkle. 

"Good luck on your mission," Lance breaks the silence, voice soft. His eyes are still shiny, and he sounds a trite sniffly. "Be careful, samurai. Make sure you make it back to us." 

"Me? Always," Keith teases, and it gets a chuckle out of him. 

"I'll see you, man." Lance leaves him with one last smile, a lopsided affair with half-lidded eyes and a crease between his eyebrows, and Keith nods at him. Hanging up quickly is best, like ripping off the band-aid, because they tend to linger on the line for another varga or two until there's an important something-or-other to be attended to. 

Keith places the dark holopad back on his bed, carefully laying down his only connection to the team, and stands, somehow feeling simultaneously lighter and heavier by the talk. 

\+ 

"We'll never penetrate those shields." 

In that instant, Keith knows what he has to do. "Maybe not with our shields," he replies, low and dark. Before Matt's face can change on his screen, he closes out the visual connection and jams his thrusters forward, guiding the ship along the curve of the shield. Matt's voice is loud and panicked in his ears, but his cries of Keith's name are drowned out by a high-pitched droning. 

Keith watches the glowing hexagons of the shield grow larger as he hurtles closer, and Matt's voice vanishes completely. Keith closes his eyes, and his life flashes behind his black eyelids: 

sitting on his pop's shoulders and pretending to fly; visiting his mom's grave, then visiting the one beside it years later; foster brothers and sisters, frustrated dads and moms; each semi-yearly report card with the teachers' condemption of his behavior down at the bottom, a stark contrast to the stellar grades; his first crush on a boy: brown-skinned, curly-haired Taylor from Physics, who sat in front of him and got moved to the front for not knowing how to whisper during lectures; his first time in juvenile detention, fist still sore from punching James Griffin's smug mouth; Shiro bailing him out, handing him a card, Keith's sad, confused reflection in the rolled-up window; meeting Shiro's fiancee Adam, who was clearly begrudged to let Keith sleep on their couch but grew to make just as many dad jokes as Shiro did; Kerberos and the quote-unquote 'pilot error', and his lizard friends who burrowed next to the shack; bailing Shiro out of the quarentine unit, loud-mouthed Lance and his friends barging in, finding the Blue Lion, being whisked off of good-for-nothing Earth and into space where he belonged - where he was going to die; Shiro disappearing again, the thrill of the Black Lion accepting him subdued by the anxiety of leadership; accessing Galra controls with the touch of his hands, wielding the Marmoran blade, Allura's hard gaze on him; Hunk's ease and acceptance, Pidge's snarky remarks, Shiro's kind eyes and unwavering faith in him; Lance supporting him, Lance stabilizing him, Lance calling him back whenever he strayed too far; Lance's eyes, his smile, his laugh, his goofiness and his kindness and his affection - 

The alarm in his ship goes off, telling him about the cruiser that's less than a few parsecs away, and Keith squeezes his eyes shut, hands tight around the controls. He wasn't sorry for this decision; he was sorrier about never telling Lance that he - 

An explosion rocks his fighter ship, and Keith's eyes shoot open just in time to watch the shield on the cruiser turn yellow, orange, red, then shatter completely. He yanks back the controls and arcs away from the cruiser, circling away from it and back to the ranks of his compatriots. His chest heaves and Keith raises his wrist to numbly wipe at his sweaty forehead. 

"Good job, Keith," Shiro says over the comms. He can't see how wide and warmly Lance is smiling, the crinkle of his eyebrows and the fond slant of his eyebrows, over the connection. 

"That wasn't me," Keith chokes out. He recognizes the oblong shape of the ship as it stops firing on the shields and circles away; the two legs, the dark purple hull. "It was - Lotor." 

\+ 

The first thing Matt does when they get back is snitch on him to Lance. 

Keith can sense the betrayal coming when Matt leans in close to Lance and asks him if they can talk privately. It makes him sit up on the couch where he's been lying for the past varga, and Lance glances over at him, connecting Matt's glimpses and his reaction. He thins his lips and agrees, and Matt walks with him out into the hallway. Keith can no longer relax, and it's unfortunate that he has to disobey orders - relax, or else - but judging by the utter silence coming from the other side of the walls, not even the muffled sound of voices coming through, Keith has mere dobashes to escape. 

He's getting up from the couch with a wince as pain laces through him when the doors open. Lance is ashen and pale-faced, Matt looking grave behind him, and Keith knows he's too late. 

"Keith," Lance whispers shakily, clenching his fists to try and steady his voice. "Can we talk?" 

Keith has to surrender to the watery sheen in Lance's eyes. "Yeah," he replies, and stands. The rest of the team watches them, various expressions of concern. Even Shiro is taken aback by the mourning on Lance's face. 

Lance is silent as he takes the lead, winding through corridors where the only sound is his footsteps and the barely-there scrape of Keith's own treads. He stops in front of Keith's old room, glances back at him before entering, standing in the middle with his back facing the door. A fleeting thought of running while Lance isn't looking crosses his mind, but Keith shuts it down and forces himself to follow him. The doors shut behind him, sealing him into a mausoleum of Emotional Conversation. 

"Keith," Lance says with his back still turned. "What were you thinking..?" 

"That there was no other way," Keith replies instantly. 

"There's always another way!" Lance spins around, eyes flashing furiously and teeth pulled into a gritted-teeth snarl, and Keith is taken aback by the rage condensed in his voice, the teardrops clinging to his eyelashes. "There's always another way, Keith!" 

Annoyance sparks in the pit of his stomach. "I'd like to hear it," he monotones. 

Lance's eyes narrow dangerously. "Not kamikaze-ing yourself is a great one," he spits. "What do you think we could've done if you had actually - if you had - God!" He curses in another language - Spanish, probably, Keith thinks - and reaches up to frustratedly grab at his hair. "I can't even quiznaking talk to you right now!" 

"That works for me," Keith says in that same flat tone. 

He needs to stop digging himself deeper; Lance can only be pushed so far. And right now, he seems to be teetering on the edge. He crosses his arms tightly. "What have I been telling you for months?" he asks. "What have I said right before we end every single call we have? Did you ever even listen?" 

"What, be careful?" 

"Make sure you make it back, you idiot!" Lance snaps hysterically. "How can you do that if you fly your ship into a shield and die, Keith?! How can you come back to us if you're dead, huh, tough guy!?" His voice catches, and Lance shudders, closing his eyes. He squeezes his fists down at his sides and lowers his chin, hiding his eyes behind the fringe of hair across his forehead. "How can you make it back... to me?"

Ice water churns through Keith's veins. He stares, wide-eyed at Lance where he stands, stiff and small-looking in the empty room. Lance sniffles and when he turns around again, Keith catches a glance of his tear-streaked cheeks. "You're... my best friend, Keith. When you left to join the Blades, I was so... lonely." His shoulders drop, the tension drained out of them. "Hunk started hanging out with Pidge, her brother, her dad... Allura and Shiro spend all of their time together now, and even Coran has better things to do. You were the only one who ever really.. spends time with me. Or, used to, before..." He gulps, and it's loud in the quiet room. "Ever since you left, everyone started acting differently. For most of them, it was very subtle - Hunk left your place at the table, but he always looked so sad whenever he saw it - but my grandma always said I had a fine eye for detail. But Shiro... your brother... he yelled at me. He ignored me. I was his right-hand man, sure, but he didn't need me." Lance raises his head again, chin tilted back. "Not like you did. We were a team, Keith, and when you left, I was all by myself. No one to have my back. Shiro doesn't need me to cover him; he's already the both of us combined into one person, a single man team. I wanted to support your decision, I knew you were doing awesome things out there. But I was so lonely, and I was selfish. I wanted you to come back and.. and have you to myself again." Another shudder runs through him, and he folds his arms, hands gripping at his biceps, cradling himself. "If you had died at Naxzela... if you had died before I got the chance to talk to you face-to-face again... I don't know what I would've done." 

"Lance, I..." Keith tries to formulate words. "I-I thought you would be happier. I thought you all would be happier." 

Lance turns back to him, eyes wide and bloodshot with tears. "Why would you ever think that..?" 

Keith lowers his chin, eyes focused on the toes of Lance's socks, trying to wrack his brain for the way to put it. He clenches his hand, then loosens it, and raises it up to point a single finger up at the ceiling. Lance's distressed face falls even further when Keith shows him his pinky finger. "Six paladins, five lions. One paladin too many," Keith quietly explains. "Red... she chose you, Lance. It means she thought you were special, and worthy. I wouldn't make you give that up, just like you wouldn't make Allura give up Blue, or Shiro and Black." He shifts his weight, lowering his hand and letting it hang by his side. "No matter what you might think about yourself, you're an important part of the team, Lance. You keep us all together when otherwise we would've drifted apart." Keith glances up into his eyes, and smiles. "You're our sharpshooter. The glue that keeps us together. I'm just Keith." 

Lance looks floored, mouth hanging open, eyes no more than pinpricks of shock. After a long moment of no response, Keith lets his smile fade. "Lance...?" 

"Shut up." Keith starts, but Lance holds up a hand to silence him. "Bip-bip-bip. Shut up, Keith, before you give me a quiznaking heart attack." Lance steps forward, long legs carrying him quickly, and he's moving in slow motion as his arms come up to wrap around Keith's neck, even though he's still a little taller than Keith is. His hair is soft against Keith's ear, and Keith leans into the body heat soaking through his clothes, bleeding into the Marmoran armor like beams of sunlight. His hands come up to secure Lance's waist, arms snaking around to encircle the other boy's lower back, and closes his eyes, basking in the warm embrace. 

When Lance's quivering stops and he starts to draw away, Keith's arms tighten, and he realizes it just a second too late. Lance freezes, halfway backed out of the hug, and quiznak, he's close enough for their noses to brush. Keith can make out the constellations of freckles on his cheeks, the cracks in his lips, his long lashes damp with tears, the ring of dark blue around blown-wide pupils. Lance's eyelids lower as Keith continues to stare like a deer in the headlights, and when a warm hand cups his cheek, it finally startles Keith out of his reverie. 

"Lance?" Keith whispers. 

"Shut up, Keith," Lance breathes. His thumb rubs beneath Keith's eye. "I'm... going to kiss you. Is that okay with you?" 

"Sure," Keith says, already lost in the fond twinkle in his eye. Lance's eyes close, lashes fluttering, and he leans down, hand sliding around to gently caress the curve of Keith's head, losing his fingertips in the wild licks and curls at the base of the neck. The warm press of his mouth sends Keith out to sea, and he clings to Lance like he's a lifesaver, his fingers bunching in dark green fabric. A contented sound groans between them, Keith can't be sure who made the sound; all he's sure of are the planes of Lance's back when he slides his hand up the back of his shirt, the other one coming up to card through that devilishly tousled hair Lance is so proud of. Something hot and wet licks the seam of his lips, and Keith catches the wave, tilting his head up as their kiss deepens into something that devours both of them. 

Lance's fingers tighten around a handful of hair, yanking Keith's head back just a little bit, and another moan pours between them. It's clear which one of them it came from, and it makes both of them freeze. Lance pulls away, licking his kiss-shiny lips. "Oh?" he asks coquettishly, brows arching with an inquiry as he twines a stray curl around his fingers and gives a tiny tug. 

Keith presses their chests together and cobbles his blushing face into a scowl. "No. Don't." 

"Hm. We'll see." Lance pulls again, and Keith tilts his head with it. A growl escapes him, and he leans back in, rocking up onto his tiptoes and steadying himself on Lance's hips as he initiates another kiss, swiping his tongue tip into Lance's gaping mouth and making himself at home in the sunny warmth there. A chuckle thrums between them, Lance's shoulders jumping a little as the laughter escapes through the cracks, but there's only affection in it, and after being so lonely, for so long, Keith basks in the light. 

When they draw away again, Keith lets Lance's laughter infect him. He smiles, and Lance's eyes narrow as his cheeks push up with the corners of his mouth. 

"I love you, Lance," Keith says without a second thought. "I think I have for a while." 

"Keith...." Lance smirks. "Neverending bad hair day aside, I think you're pretty great, too." There's a crinkle between his eyebrows and an uncertain twitch in the corner of his mouth, and even though Keith is one of the most socially blind people he knows, he's well-versed in the language of Lance. He hesitantly leans in and pecks the corner of that mouth, and accepts the mutual confession. Relief colors between the lines of Lance's expression, and his arm unwinds from around Keith's shoulders, hand sliding down to twine their fingers together.

**Author's Note:**

> episodes used: 
> 
> s3, ep6 "tailing a comet"  
> s4, ep1 "code of honor"  
> s6, ep2 "razor's edge"  
> s4, ep4 "the voltron show!"  
> s4, ep6 "a new defender"  
> s6, ep1 "a little adventure" 
> 
> let's pretend like keith joined matt & the rebels when they all regrouped w voltron after naxzela. ok? ok
> 
> i know, i know. this is a breakup song. but.......just 4 a second.......let's ignore that


End file.
